


Day 29: Whatever

by thebright1



Series: An Ineffable Plan: A Canon Compliant Love Story [29]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Valentines 2020 (Good Omens), M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebright1/pseuds/thebright1
Summary: Crowley raises eyebrows, glances at Aziraphale over the rim of his sunglasses. “Doing what?” he asks innocently. Too innocently. Crowley has never been this innocent in his entire life.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: An Ineffable Plan: A Canon Compliant Love Story [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620406
Comments: 24
Kudos: 193





	Day 29: Whatever

**Author's Note:**

> All of the stories in this series are linked together, so if you want a full picture of what exactly is going on, please start with [Day 1: Chocolate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22520329). 
> 
> All the works in this series are also posted as a chaptered work for easier reading/downloading: [ An Ineffable Plan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081191/chapters/55213303)

The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives - The Ritz

Crowley has been idly playing with their bond all through lunch. Aziraphale can feel him reaching out through it. He’s not talking to Aziraphale that way, not communicating directly. He’s toying with it the way Aziraphale has seen people fidget with pens, bounce their knees, bite a fingernail. Except every time Crowley toys with it it feels like his hand is on Aziraphale’s wrist, or like their knees are gently bumping together, or, right now, like Crowley’s ghosting his breath just across the back of Aziraphale’s neck. It’s driving Aziraphale just a bit mad. 

“Is there a reason you’re doing that, my dear?” he asks, delicately finishing his glass of champagne. 

Crowley raises eyebrows, glances at Aziraphale over the rim of his sunglasses. “Doing what?” he asks innocently. Too innocently. Crowley has never been this innocent in his entire life. 

“Playing with it,” Aziraphale hisses. “I can feel it, you know.” He picks up the dessert menu the waiter has left behind. 

“Oh,” Crowley says. He pushes his glasses back up on his nose, covering his eyes. “Just. . . It’s a new thing, right? Just interested in exploring what I can do with it.”

Aziraphale looks determinedly at the dessert menu. “We have the rest of our lives to explore it, I think.”

“Or at least until Heaven and Hell regroup,” Crowley says. 

“Don’t be pessimistic, dear,” Aziraphale tuts. There is a flourless chocolate cake with a raspberry filling that has caught Aziraphale’s eye. He imagines how dense the mouthfeel will be, and—

_ Aziraphale’s trousers are undone, his pants pulled down, and Crowley is on his knees before him, his tongue drawing circles up and down the angel’s cock, pressing open mouth kisses as he sucks gently, down to the base- _

Aziraphale blinks, breathes hard. He swallows, turns to look at Crowley. . . 

. . . who has the most wicked smile on his face. 

“Is that what you’ve been trying to figure out how to do?” Aziraphale asks, a little breathlessly. He looks at the menu, then back up at Crowley. “I guess you want to skip dessert.”

“Not. At. All,” Crowley says, his voice low and husky. 

_ Aziraphale in his female form in a silk nightie, creamy white lace, rucked up around his thighs. His breasts strain at the lace while Crowley licks his nipple through the silk, his tongue swirling over and over, making Aziraphale give out soft high pitched gasps. He has one hand between Aziraphale’s thighs, three fingers buried deep inside, his thumb rubbing Aziraphale’s clit- _

Aziraphale has gone quite pink in the cheeks, and his breathing is ragged. He sets down the dessert menu. “Perhaps,” he says, and his voice shakes only a little bit, “you would prefer to have dessert elsewhere?”

Crowley smiles. “Excellent idea. Maybe we can just pick something up and walk back to your bookshop?” He is thoroughly enjoying this game. 

“ I think that’s an excellent idea.” Aziraphale has had quite enough of Crowley’s antics, so he sends his own image through the link.

_ Crowley, pushed up against the wall of the bookstore, his head thrown back, moaning as Aziraphale lifts him, slides effortlessly into him, his legs wrapping around Aziraphale’s waist, his hands clutching at Aziraphale’s shoulders- _

A thunk jolts Aziraphale from the thought. Crowley has stood and knocked over his chair. He’s breathing hard. He removes his wallet from his back pocket and drops more than enough notes on the table to cover their meal and give a substantial tip to the waiter. 

Aziraphale smiles a little smugly. “In a hurry, my dear?” He delicately pats his mouth with his napkin, and folds it gently on the table. Crowley takes Aziraphale’s hand and practically pulls him towards the door. 

On the sidewalk, Aziraphale grips his hand tightly and forces them to walk at a slow pace, hand in hand. “It is a beautiful day, let’s walk back to the shop.” 

Crowley raises his eyebrows, but acquiesces. Aziraphale hums peacefully, his thumb gently rubbing the back of Crowley’s hand as they walk. 

“What do you like best?” Azirapgale asks idly. 

“What do you mean?”

Aziraphale sends him an image through the link. 

_ On the couch in the back room of the shop, Aziraphale rides Crowley’s cock, his thighs trembling as he lifts himself up and down-  _

“Truce!” Crowley croaks. He lets go of Aziraphale’s hand and stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk. Annoyed humans clear a path around him. “Aziraphale,” he says thickly. 

_ I’m not going to make it to the shop _ , he says through their link. _ If you don’t stop that.  _

Aziraphale feels very, very pleased with himself. He smiles, delighted. “All right, my dear, truce.” 

They continue walking towards the shop, side by side, hands to themselves. “Although,” Aziraphale begins, as if they have been having a conversation this whole time. “I do really want to know if I should . . . change things. I mean, in preparation,” he says. He looks at Crowley, who is giving him a puzzled glance. “I mean, for you, for us to . . “ 

Crowley huffs like Aziraphale has asked the stupidest question yet. “I like you whatever and however you are, angel.” They’re approaching the front of the bookshop. “In any way you’ll let me have you.” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale says softly. He is not prepared for how loved and aroused that makes him feel. He walks up the steps to the shop, uses his key to open the front door. He and Crowley are about to enter, when he pauses on the stoop. He looks at Crowley in the sunlight. 

“Will you take off your sunglasses?” Aziraphale asks. 

“What, now?”

Aziraphale nods. “Just for a moment.” 

Crowley complies, albeit somewhat cautiously. “What are you-” 

Azriaphale grabs the lapels of Crowley’s jacket, pulls him close, and presses their lips together. 

Crowley responds immediately, his arms going around Aziraphale, sunglasses falling to the pavement. Aziraphale clutches him in a desperate embrace. He tries to put everything he’s feeling into the kiss, feels his emotions well up and spill over into the bond. The absolute relief he felt at seeing Crowley sitting on that bench, the joy at their mutual freedom, the love that he’s overwhelmed to finally be able to express. He lets Crowley feel it all, feels the same echoed back at him, and another emotion that he can’t quite name until it smacks him in the face. Admiration. 

Aziraphale breaks the kiss, but rests his forehead against Crowley’s own. “I love you,” he says. 

Crowley pulls back and smiles. “Do you think Heaven is still watching you?” he asks gently. 

“Oh, I do hope so.” Aziraphale looks at Crowley’s lovely red hair, golden eyes. He’s beautiful in this afternoon light, and it reminds Aziraphale of the garden, of that first brilliant smile Crowley gave him. “I want them to know exactly how much I adore you.” 

“Come inside,” Crowley says, in a tone that’s both gentle and sensual. “I want to make love to you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Aziraphale huffs. “If you think I’m going to get into one of those gowns for you-” 

Crowley licks his lips.

Aziraphale swallows thickly. “I’ll think about it.” 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos! 
> 
> This has been an absolute blast to write and I am so sad it's over now, I didn't even want to post this last day. 
> 
> Come find me [on Tumblr](https://thebright1.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> I am probably going to do a bit of editing and repost this whole thing as one big chaptered work so it's easily downloadable (because the only way I read long fanfics is on my Kindle paperwhite, so I'm going to assume there's someone out there who does the same).


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